


Winter Coat

by mew_tsubaki



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, bc i need even more owls and deffo more washinaga and DEFFO more fluff bc OWLSSSSSS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 07:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17935232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/mew_tsubaki
Summary: In the fall and winter months, Onaga is a sight. And an experience.





	Winter Coat

**Author's Note:**

> The Haikyuu! characters belong to Furudate Haruichi-sensei, not to me. Because Furudate-sensei's artistic skills gave me a silly little idea for my boys. =w= Read, review, and enjoy!

For a large chunk of the year, Onaga had a buzz cut. Not quite so severe that he would've been lost amongst Fukurodani's baseball team, just another face in the crowd, but. Short. Cropped. Fuzzy.

Now…it's still short. But have Washio's eyes been playing tricks on him? Or is Onaga now growing it out?

Onaga's hair caught his attention last week, and here the third-year middle blocker is yet again, in the middle of practice, squinting at Onaga's head while the first year's back is turned, his attention on Konoha as the blond congratulates him on a monster block that, with a little more practice, might one day shut out the skills of those like Bokuto.

A small but momentous occasion, and all Washio can do is focus on his defensive partner's head.

He's lost in his concentration well enough that he's unprepared for Onaga to turn his head so suddenly, catching Washio's eye. "Washio-senpai?" he prompts, curious. His eyes are a little wide from surprise, but he looks Washio in the eye. Here it is, late September, but he finally feels at home with all his senior regulars not to duck his head ninety percent of the time.

Washio startles, slightly but enough that a halfhearted "ah—" slips from his mouth. Then he thinks better and dismisses himself with a shake of his head. He claps Onaga on the shoulder so as not to make the younger boy worry. "Good job," he adds with one of his micro smiles.

That does the trick. Onaga's eyes—no, his whole face lights up. He bumbles his thanks in this minute-long respite while Yamiji-sensei directs the others on what he'd like to see done next, and Washio thinks that's that.

Of course, Onaga does his usual motion, running a hand over the back of his head, bashful as ever.

And the gesture simply draws Washio's eyes right back to where they started.

* * *

Halfway through October, there's a distinct chill in the air that threatens to vanquish all traces of fall in favor of winter if Mother Nature feels so inclined. That means layers for some, mittens for many, and scarves abound everywhere one looks.

But bundling up serves a purpose: It means Fukurodani's VBC can hangout for a little while longer at the end of a school day when they don't have practice or even a basic club meeting. And hanging out in Tokyo when it's cold means vending machine coffee and taiyaki hot and fresh from a stand in the park almost directly behind their high school but which can only be reached by a circuitous route the likes of which only Bokuto and Komi think makes sense.

Not that Washio has anything against warm food and drink, but a part of him wishes their group had bought their items and then found some place equally warm to consume them. As it stands, his coffee's half gone and no longer heating his hands, and he ate his taiyaki nearly fast as Shirofuku did, because the heat evaporates from the fish-shaped pastry at a nearly exponential rate.

"Are you freezing, Washio-senpai?" Onaga asks, bending over slightly on Washio's right since the third year sits with the managers while the others horse around—or, in Konoha's case, hop from foot to foot trying to generate heat.

Washio shakes his head…although the action buries his face deeper in his scarf, which makes Onaga smile.

"Would you like to borrow my scarf in addition to yours? I don't mind."

"Then you'd be cold, Onaga."

The gigantic first year shakes his head. "Nah, I run warm anyway. My mom just never lets me leave the house without a scarf once it's fall."

It's a cute mental image Washio has, of a good kid like Onaga stooping so his tiny mother can triple-wrap a handmade scarf around his neck before he heads to school. Of course, that's if she _is_ tiny. …could she be? Or maybe both his parents are tall, since he had to get it from somewhere—

"Washio-senpai?"

Ah, right. Back to the matter at hand, Washio shakes his head. "I don't need another scarf, Onaga, but thank you."

Onaga purses his lips, gives the problem some thought, and snaps his fingers. "But you have no gloves, so it's your hands, isn't it?"

Washio says nothing. The giggle behind him informs him that Shirofuku's been eavesdropping.

Onaga smiles impossibly wider and leans his head close to Washio. "I _do_ mean it, that I often have a high body temperature. So if I may…" He takes Washio's right hand, guiding it to the folds of his scarf behind his neck. Washio's fingertips rest against the back of Onaga's shirt collar, warming up fast. "Better?"

The third year nods.

"I'm glad. A middle blocker's hands are important, Washio-senpai. Please take better care of yourself."

Washio tears his eyes away from the eager concern on his kouhai's face. He really isn't one to be scolded, so this exchange is alien to him. But…he appreciates it coming from Onaga. Plus…

It's all too easy to slide his hand up to run his fingers along the back of Onaga's head. If he wanted to, of course. Onaga's hair looks longer, thicker than ever, and Washio would be lying if he said this were the first time he'd wondered if it felt as soft as it's beginning to look.

But of course he's not going to—

Onaga gives a tiny, surprised yelp and blinks at Washio.

Ah. Turns out thought developed into motion, and Washio pulls his fingers from Onaga's hair. "Sorry, my hand slipped." What an obvious lie. He only hopes he looks far calmer than he feels.

The apples of Onaga's cheeks turn rosy, competing with the cherry tip of his nose. He stands a little straighter. "Uh, no, n-no, it's fine. Washio-senpai."

A pause where one shouldn't be. Great.

"No fair!" Konoha howls as he charges at Onaga. "Washio, no hogging the hatchling to yourself!"

The others come right on Konoha's heels, practically tackling Onaga. Konoha and Komi succeed in burrowing into Onaga's chest, soaking up the body heat and leaving Sarukui and Akaashi with Bokuto as a backup plan. Bokuto opens his blazer wide, but it can only loosely close around Akaashi, and the face Sarukui makes gets them all laughing again. Shirofuku and Suzumeda huddle closer to Washio, nearly everyone thaws, and the good times keep rolling.

For a moment, Onaga glances from over Konoha's blond head to lock eyes with Washio. Their eyes meet and just as soon part.

Right. Precisely nothing awkward about that whatsoever.

* * *

Washio frets after that. He's usually so good with all the kouhai, especially Onaga, and Onaga is the last person Washio wants to think of him as strange.

Especially on a team that has the likes of Bokuto, Akaashi, Komi, Sarukui, and Konoha, being the strange senpai is quite the feat.

But it's not so easy, going to whatever their normal from before was. Washio debates why that is, between classes and club, but the answer never comes to him. He's one of the smarter third years in their grade, but clearly there's still plenty for him to learn.

During club, Onaga doesn't withdraw into his shy shell from day one, but he stays alert, only around Washio.

Washio has enough sense not to make things more awkward by pointing out the awkwardness that's palpable between two people who are required to be in sync and on the same page whenever they're both in front of the net.

It's not until November, until the Spring High preliminaries, until after Itachiyama has bested Fukurodani yet again, until Fukurodani triumphs over Nekoma, until they have secured a spot to represent Tokyo in January that the awkwardness dissipates.

The atmosphere they all breathe in, knowing they're going to the Spring High, is infectious, and Fukurodani can't keep the smiles off their faces as they do a final check of belongings before heading out. Even Yamiji-sensei has a hard time hiding his tiny but proud grin as he confers with the managers and learns news that normally would irritate him—Bokuto misplaced his lunchbox. And water bottle. And towel. And spare kneepads.

Bokuto takes Komi and Suzumeda, fast helpers for this sort of thing, with him, giving the team a respite before returning to campus for the post-match meeting. Half the guys drop to their butts on either side of the corridor leading to the gymnasium's lobby, because experience has taught this parliament that the hunt for Bokuto's things can be a long one.

Despite being tired, Washio can't bring himself even to sit on a nearby bench, but he tries leaning against the wall. He's too stiff to be comfortable, and he stands up straight when Onaga approaches him.

A sheepish smile just about dimples his cheeks. "The _Spring High_ , Washio-senpai…!" Onaga brims with barely contained excitement.

And he chuckles. Finally, he chuckles, and somehow it comes flooding back, how easy it is to talk with and be around Onaga. "In your first year, no less, Onaga."

Onaga nods. The kid probably still can't fathom it all. "I'm lucky to be on such a fantastic team," he remarks, his eyes going from one face to another on their team.

Washio waits until Onaga's attention circles back to him. "You're fantastic yourself, Onaga. You were great today, even better than the solid work you've put in up to now."

Onaga beams. It's the kind of warm smile that, even though Washio's barely an inch or two shorter, makes Washio feels as if he's looking up and basking in the sun. Onaga's simply a warm person, in more ways than one.

Ever the appreciative senpai, he reaches up, rustling Onaga's hair. "Good job, Onaga." Washio does his best not to let his hand linger.

His cheeks color a bit, the way they had before, but he laughs this time, pleased. Pleased with himself, pleased they cleared the air—pleased, either way.

* * *

"No way… Washio-senpai?"

Washio turns his head, stopping on the bottom step leading to the shrine. In three quick strides, Onaga hurries and joins him, and he doesn't mind that his senpai resumes his climb.

Onaga mindlessly hums to himself. His eyes dart to Washio's face every few steps, and he smiles when he catches Washio's eyes. "Who would've thought we'd bump into each other for the first visit of the year?"

He's right. It's a nice coincidence. It'd be silly to call it fate. "Serendipity" might fit, though, and that's one of a thousand vocabulary words Washio needs to memorize for the upcoming university entrance exam. That depressing thought aside, he smiles at Onaga in answer.

Onaga stares for an extra beat. Then he tucks his chin into the tall collar of his green winter jacket. Like Washio, he's dressed for the weather this time with a jacket, scarf, and gloves. He could still use a hat, although that full head of hair might be keeping him plenty warm.

Up at the top of the stairs, the shrine grounds are packed, shrine goers little more than schools of fish in a too-small tank. Washio and Onaga get jostled in the throng, and every few minutes someone nearly steps on their feet or swings an elbow into their middles. A New Year's Day shrine visit is quite the dangerous occasion.

But having company makes things easier to tolerate, and conversation helps while away the wait. "So it's just you today, Washio-senpai? None of the others?"

"No. We didn't plan to meet up." He stops himself from mentioning the disaster the last two years were, with missed trains, incredible delays, misplacing Bokuto one year, misplacing _Akaashi_ last year… He loves his friends and teammates, really, he does, but they're also incredibly _exhausting_.

Onaga cracks up, making Washio furrow his brow.

"Did I do something?"

"I figure there's a story behind not meeting up with them," the first year explains. He points to the space between his eyebrows. "A big wrinkle developed right here after you said that. I'm guessing you were recalling something troublesome?"

Washio sighs and nods.

Yet Onaga's grin persists. "I've seen you and the others get kinda annoyed on the court, but it's my first time seeing you so…disgruntled?" He scratches his chin, thinking. "Or maybe 'exasperated' is a better word choice…"

Washio blinks. It's no wonder Onaga is such a quick learner; he's incredibly observant. Washio's not quite sure how to handle the attention, so he changes the subject. "I'm pretty sure 'disgruntled' and 'exasperation' are more vocabulary words on my cram guides."

"That's right…" Onaga tilts his head back to look up at the cold blue sky. Someone bumps into him, so he scoots closer to Washio. "You guys are prepping for that next chapter in your lives…"

This time, it's Washio who chuckles.

"Senpai?"

"…you sound like an old man, phrasing it that way, Onaga."

"Hey!"

The crowd never thins, but there's breathing room once they're directly in front of the shrine. Washio and Onaga queue up in separate but adjacent lines that move at relatively similar paces, although every few steps Onaga looks disappointed he's not right there behind his senpai. Washio doesn't mind. This way, they'll go and be done at the same time. Maybe they can even go somewhere together after. Like for hot chocolate. Or a walk, indoors. If Onaga's free, of course.

They reach the front and, with outstanding middle blocker timing, ring the shrine bells in unison, clapping their hands and saying their silent prayers. Onaga's done half a beat after Washio, and Washio motions him over to the left to draw their fortunes before leaving.

They each make a donation and pull a fortune, opening them as they walk away, towards the tree line.

"What's yours say?" Onaga asks, tilting his head. He's curious, but he doesn't peek over Washio's shoulder.

"'Very good luck,'" Washio reads. He shows Onaga before folding it up to stash in his pocket. "Yours?"

"'Excellent luck.'" Onaga beams and rubs the tip of his nose, happy. This time, he sets a pace and Washio walks down the steps with him.

"Good for you. Maybe this bodes well for our Spring High showing later this month."

"AH!"

Washio jolts at Onaga's yip. "What is it? What's wrong?"

They stop on the same step, and Onaga faces him, mouth agape, utterly crestfallen. "I…"

Washio furrows his brow.

"I completely forgot to wish for our good luck in a few weeks…"

Not that Washio puts much stock in luck, but… "Then what did you wish for, Onaga…?"

"Um, for you to ace your exams, for one…"

It's incredibly hard not to laugh at his endearing honesty—not because Washio means to make fun, but because he's flattered and Onaga…well, Onaga is terribly cute. Washio can't quite suppress a small smile. "Thank you, Onaga."

Onaga sighs, red-faced, and he trudges down the stone staircase with Washio at his side. "It's fine to laugh, Washio-senpai. It's just—we were _just_ talking about the university entrance exam or studying for it, really. It was at the forefront of my mind." He sighs again for good measure.

"You're a good guy, Onaga."

"Thanks…" A moment later, he brightens up. He glances at the other teen when they hit solid ground after the final step. "I'm not _too_ bummed out, though. I wished for the things I really wanted, and I'm already on top of a good-luck charm for the Spring High."

Washio quirks an eyebrow.

"My hair!" Onaga points to his head. "I'm used to having it much shorter, but I decided I won't get it cut, not even trimmed, until after we win the Spring High."

Huh. So…in a way, Washio's been right all along. Onaga really is a faithful puppy to the team, and the winter undercoat will fade with springtime. A tiny part of Washio is sad, knowing the sight before him will be gone.

"Senpai…?" Concern crinkles Onaga's brow and threatens to paint a frown on his lips.

Washio shakes his head. "You'll be our good-luck charm for the Spring High," he concurs. A surge of affection spurs him on, and he tousles Onaga's hair the same way he did after the prelims.

But, this time, Onaga still reddens and chuckles…and turns his head in towards Washio's touch. If he moves the wrong way, Washio's hand will slip and slide down the side of his face. Cupping his cheek. A caress, in other words.

Onaga's chuckle turns into a happy sigh. His eyes aren't wide but half open, lidded, when he meets Washio's stare. That and his soft smile convey how content he is in that moment.

Washio's mind empties of all other thoughts. If Onaga moves the wrong way…

… …but what if it's the _right_ way…?

* * *

In the third-year corridor, Washio holds on to a broom and…grumbles. It's not audible enough to be a sigh, not really.

"Senpai, it's not the end of the world," Onaga lightly scolds, prying the broom from his hands. He sweeps in Washio's place even though he likely just wrapped up his own day duties for Class 1-4.

Washio twists his lips around. He refuses to pout. Washio Tatsuki does not pout. Pouting is best left to Konoha, Bokuto, or Shirofuku. Still, he's not very happy.

Onaga's groan is too lighthearted; its lilt makes it more like a laugh. "I _did_ warn you I'd be getting it cut. Granted, it didn't work as _that_ great a charm…"

For a moment, Washio softens, because Onaga's right. They didn't win the Spring High, but at least Karasuno is a formidable opponent. Fukurodani didn't mind coming in second to the crows. That aside…

It's barely been a week after the tournament, but Onaga finally came to school today with his new haircut. It doesn't look bad; Onaga looks much the same as he did at the beginning of the school year. Washio had been wrong—the sight before him wasn't gone, merely changed.

"Washio-senpai."

He snaps out of it and takes a step back when he notices how close Onaga stands to him. He beckons for the broom back. "You shouldn't take over another's cleaning duties, Onaga."

The first year concedes and passes the broom, but he dogs Washio's heels back to 3-5's door. "It feels nice, too. Different, but nice."

Washio reddens. His classmate, Yasaka, is also on day duty today, and she gives them a strange look, hearing Onaga's strange words. Hoping to nip further awkwardness in the bud, Washio swaps with her, the broom for the trash, and he grabs his schoolbag on the way out, too. He shoots Onaga a flat-lipped stare as they hustle in the hallway.

It dawns on Onaga, how his words could be misconstrued. Bashful for a brief moment, he scratches his neck. "…oops. Sorry, Washio-senpai."

The apology deflates the taciturn boy. Washio exhales. "No, you're right. I'm overreacting. I…usually handle change well. Maybe I was fooling myself, thinking I'm ready for this year to end."

They slow to a stop near the end of the hall, and Onaga tips his head to the right. Crossing over to the nearest windowsill, Onaga timidly reveals that small smile of his. "The year may be ending, but not _all_ change is bad, Washio-senpai." He leans an elbow on the chilled sill and tilts his head towards Washio. "Go on. You'll feel better after, I have no doubt."

Washio caves and cracks a halfhearted smile, but he does as told, and…the longer he runs his fingers over the shortened, soft bristles, the more genuine his smile becomes. Onaga's right. He's relieved.

Onaga's clearly proud of himself, too. He straightens up and moves his head purposefully…turning, cocking his head, letting Washio's fingers rest on his cheek.

Uh-oh. This is not supposed to happen. This—

"If I may," Onaga says in that exceptionally polite tone of his. He covers Washio's hand with his before the older boy can pull it away. Then he slides his fingers down to Washio's wrist, pulling Washio's hand behind his neck, hooking it there and shortening the distance between them.

Washio freezes. The bag of trash drops from his slack grip, but the noise doesn't make him jolt in the least bit.

"Better?"

He nods dumbly.

Onaga smiles. "I don't think I look _that_ bad with shorter ha—"

He doesn't. Washio shows his agreement by pulling Onaga closer, tilting his head up to kiss the younger boy. His boldness surprises even him, but he knows it was the right thing to do when Onaga smiles against his lips and partially pulls back, running that bashful hand over the back of his head.

"I _did_ draw excellent luck this year," he quips, and he laughs at Washio's tiny glare before soothing his senpai with a second kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> =w= Writing an OTP really is chicken soup for the soul, *lol*. I will always love writing my owls (and I will be forever screaming over their Mujinazaka match 8D), especially Washinaga, and something I've noticed in the last few times Furudate-sensei's drawn Fukurodani from the Spring High prelims and on is that…kinda like Kinoshita, he hasn't quite nailed down how he wants to draw Onaga's hair. XD It seems as if the baby owl's hair keeps getting longer and looonger, which gave me the inspiration for this silly fic. I had so much fun writing this, especially from Washio's POV, and the shrine visit was probably my favorite scene. Man… I have at least another 8 upcoming Fukurodani fics (including another Washinaga), so please come back for more owls!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review! Check out my other [HQ!] fics, too, if you liked this! There are always more Fukurodani fics from me!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki :D


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